Hearkened Angels Instead
by Mrs.PercyJackson3
Summary: "You're bleeding." His father looked stricken. "Oh." Percy realized, his voice detached. "It's my blood, isn't it? I'm the one bleeding."
1. How Then Might Our Course Have Changed

~* How Then Might Our Course Have Changed . . .

* * *

"Let me get this straight, so _you_ get to go in the cage but _I_ have to stay here on the boat, where I can't see anything, while you have all the fun?"

"That sounds about right."

"Jerk," Percy scoffed, crossing his arms and resolving not to sulk. He sat on top of the bait cooler, desensitized to the stench of rotten fish as he watched, decidedly unimpressed, as his father readied the seal-shaped camera decoy. The little research vessel beneath their feet skidded across the choppy waters of the Pacific Ocean but neither father nor son was unbalanced by the jerky motions, far too used to such abuse to be much affected.

"Brat," Poseidon carelessly teased back, equally unimpressed with his son's attitude, as he lethargically leaned into the rocking of the boat. "You mother made me promise to keep you out of the water."

"But I'd be in the cage—"

"And where will the cage be, Perseus?" Poseidon asked indulgently, not looking up.

Percy paused, scowling at the end of the boat where the shark cage could be found, securely tied down, the sun reflecting painfully bright off its polished bars.

"But I'd be in the _cage_ —" Percy vainly repeated, his voice dangerously close to a whine, not that the boy would admit it. Poseidon looked up, amused, but designed to keep Percy in suspense as he finished tying the camera off.

"I'm _old_ enough," Percy tried to reason, which got a full-bellied laugh from his father.

"You're twelve," Poseidon said, as if Percy needed reminding.

"That's basically an adult—"

"Basically an adult you say? Hm, who am I going to claim on my taxes now?" Poseidon chuckled, as if that made any sense. "Pelos! I'm throwing the decoy out!"

And with that cry, Poseidon wound his arm back and threw the seal camera, rope attached, out to sea. The decoy spiral gracelessly through the air, kind of like a dying bird actually, before splashing down.

"Sonar shows at least six large bodies two hundred meters down," came Pelos' voice from below the deck.

"Excellent, that'll be our Great Whites," Poseidon guessed with a wide grin, clapping Percy on the shoulder as he walked towards the bow of the boat.

Percy made a face at his father's back. He hopped off the cooler as Poseidon shouted science mumbo jumbo at his two fellow scientists, Pelo, a member from the aquarium back in New York, and Canace, the local Seal Island expert. Percy ignored them for now, they weren't doing anything remotely interesting at the moment, and peered curiously over the helm of the boat, one hand shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun off the ocean. Seal Island rose out of the sea to the right of the boat, little black specks flipping and flying around the rocks. They were seals, Percy knew, even if he couldn't make out their happy, whiskered faces.

"Stay away from the dive gate!" Poseidon shouted, snapping his fingers over his shoulder but not turning around. "Back up front with you!"

Percy took a step back, reluctantly letting his fingers slip away from the railing of the boat, making another face at his father's unsuspecting back. Canace caught the expression; she grinned but bent low over her clipboard instead of ratting him out. Percy appreciated that, he always liked Canace.

"It's peak breeding season for the seals, so we should see some sharks," Canace shouted over the roar of the motor, one hand coming up in a vain attempt to tame the wayward locks the wind tore from her pony-tail.

As if in response to the scientist's words, a blur of movement caught Percy's eye and he whirled around just in time to see a white belly slam back into the water.

"A breach!" Percy cried in disbelief, dashing back to the helm of the boat in excitement. "Dad, did you see that? I just missed it! Dad—!"

"What did I say about staying away from the back gate?" Poseidon asked, striding towards him but he was grinning broadly. He grabbed Percy by the shoulder, giving a friendly squeeze as he tugged the boy away from the railing.

"And I did," his father agreed, laughing deeply as he leaned over Percy's shoulder to squint out at the rough waves. "But don't worry, we should see plenty more of that."

"Maybe!" Canace shouted, frantically fidgeting with the monitors. "Pelos! Did you get that?"

"Hold on, hold on, dammit, we just deployed it—"

"Dammit Pelos, don't tell me you _missed it_."

Percy craned his neck up to peer up at Poseidon as the pair devolved into a loud bickering. His father winked, callous hands a warm weight on Percy's shoulders.

"Pretty cool even from up here on the boat isn't it?" Poseidon asked with an irritatingly smug and sly grin.

Even though he loathed to give Poseidon the satisfaction, Percy couldn't help giving a reluctant, "Pretty cool."

"Atta boy," Poseidon laughed, giving him a shake. Shouting sounded from the control room and the boat gave a sudden jerk.

"Oh, hold on there," Poseidon sighed, fingers digging into Percy's shoulders to keep the boy upright. "Alright, I guess I should head back there and break that up."

Percy snorted, rolling his eyes, "You mean pick a side."

"Same difference," Poseidon lightly dismissed, striding towards the commotion. "Stay away from the diving gate!"

Percy rolled his eyes again, not interested in the petty squabbles of the scientists. He eagerly scanned the horizon instead, finding the seal decoy bobbing along in the wake of the boat. He couldn't believe he missed the first shark breach. Well, he certainly wouldn't miss the next one. He fixed his eyes on the decoy, resolving not to take his eyes off it. He was so busy watching the decoy bob up and down, eyes firmly fixed on the fake prey, that he _did_ almost miss it. There, in the distance, a couple leagues from the boat: a Great White breached.

"Dad!" Percy yelled as the massive fish lifted clean out of the water and for one heart-stopping moment lay suspended parallel to the ocean, a seal trapped in its steel jaw. Percy watched in delight as the sea giant majestically twisted in the air before splashing back down.

"Dad, did you see that, did you see that—" Percy called, rushing to the end of the boat, one foot on the bottom rail to heave himself up, desperate to keep track of the shark even though it already sunk back below the surface.

It happened fast.

One moment he was leaning over the railing, eyes wide in delight then . . . then he was falling, the dive gate swinging forward under his weight, the rusted and old lock shattering, and the ocean was getting closer, closer, closer.

Percy gasped, lungs filling with bitter, salty water—what? What was happening? He was upside down, no he was sideways, he was—he was—

Then he was upright, intermittently hacking the water out of his lungs and desperately taking in gulps of air. Salt stung his eyes as he blinked stupidly. He bobbed uncomfortably, head briefly dipping below the water before he remembered to kick. He kicked, his head breaking the surface and blinked stupidly across the choppy rolls of blue that rocked across his face.

The boat was cruising away, a couple feet, tens of feet, further. Percy blinked.

Then he shouted, "Dad!"

A quick breath.

"Dad!"

Percy turned his head, his breath coming quickly. He was in the ocean, oh god, he was in the ocean, he fell, he fell overboard, oh god.

 _"Dad!"_ Percy shouted again, heart pounding against his ribs.

 _Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, don't panic,_ he thought in panic. Waves lapped against his face and the image of the breaching shark flashed through Percy mind, like a slow motion replay; the shark's head bursting above the water, jaws slowly clamping down on the doomed seal, body still rising higher and higher.

"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic," Percy repeated to himself, desperate.

 _Don't look like a seal,_ his mind unhelpfully supplied as he took a couple strokes forward, eyes glued on the boat.

They must have realized something was wrong; the boat was banking a hard right, the old motor desperately trying to make a U-turn. The boat wasn't as far away as Percy's panicked mind originally thought. He could clearly see Poseidon on deck, his tan face taunt with obvious panic. He was shouting, making violent, quick gestures. He had one foot up on the boat railing, Canace's hand firmly wrapped around his arm. Restraining him, Percy realized. Because of course Poseidon would think jumping into the water would help.

Percy kicked and swam, making a beeline for the boat with as little splashing as possible. Poseidon reached an arm out, but they were too far away for it to be of any use.

"Don't splash!" His father's voice was strained. "Hurry, just a little bit father, come on Percy."

"Poseidon—" Canace warned sharply as Poseidon lurched forward as if to dive in. "No, you'll make a splash."

"Come on Percy, come on."

The water was warm as it lapped against the side of Percy's face, trying to push him back as he kicked forward, eyes fixed on Poseidon's taunt face. Oh, Sally was going to be so angry with him, she would never let Percy go out with Poseidon again. The thought flitted quickly across Percy's mind, replaced by the fractured thoughts that _there were sharks in the water_ , that he was small and wearing black and probably looked like a damn seal, and that Poseidon was still out of reach. The sun seemed to reflect off Poseidon's wide eyes, shades of green fracturing and shining like cracked emerald. Pelos shouted something, Poseidon's head half turned only to snap back. The look on his face froze Percy's breath, his arm pausing midstroke.

 _"Percy!"_

His father's scream wasn't human. Percy didn't have time to be afraid, to wonder at that terrible voice because then . . . then Percy was in the air.

Was it Poseidon's scream echoing in his ears or his own confused, startled gasp? He could see the sky, nothing but the blue, blue sky, stretching on and on, closer and closer . . . and then, like a shooting star, he crashed back down to earth. The world was still blue, only darker. And silent. He laid suspended, frozen. Nothing moved. There was no sound. Something tugged at his upper body; a latent part of his brain vainly tried to spark alarm into his listless body. He couldn't imagine why, although he felt he should. The tugging brought him upward—and the silent bubble broke.

"Percy? Percy!"

A wet, very human hand slapped against his face. Percy blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at Poseidon. How did he get there so fast?

"Percy," Poseidon gasped, his voice strangled. "I've got you, I've got you."

Obviously.

Poseidon kept repeating it though, paddling backward with one hand and dragging Percy through the choppy waters.

Hm.

So it was _Poseidon_ tugging at him. Well. That was good.

The boat idled towards them. Canace crouched on her knees, whiter than the foam on the sea, both hands held out towards them from her perch at the stern. Pelos threw himself down next to her, a red box clenched in his arms.

"Dad?"

"I've got you, I've got you, I've got you—a little further—" Poseidon's voice wasn't right.

Canace could reach them now, her hard fingers dug into Percy's shoulders then Pelos lurched forward and together they pulled him back aboard the boat. Percy gasped, trying to sit up. Something was wrong, something was wrong with _him_. Percy coughed then Poseidon was leaning over him, looking every bit a ghost.

"Oh God, oh God," Poseidon gasped, which seemed to confirm Percy's suspicions.

Poseidon wasn't looking at his face.

"Tourniquet, tourniquet, give me a—" his father frantically demanded and Pelos thrust something into Poseidon's hands.

"Shh, shh, shh, look at me, look at me Percy," Canace desperately instructed as Percy tried to see what Poseidon was doing. The biologist took his face in trembling hands, moving to cradle his head on her lap.

"Hey sweetie, hey, look at me okay? Just look at me."

She brushed wet hair away from his eyes, forcing a shaking smile as she leaned over him, her pale face filling his vision. Pelos talked frantically in the background;

"No, no, Seal Island, yes, yes just off the island. No it—yes a Great White. He's—he's—he's twelve. Oh God. Leg, the—we have a tourniquet, we need—above the wound yes—yes, yes. I don't think, no, no it didn't break the artery, it couldn't have, god there's so much blood. What if it did—Okay. Okay. Okay. Blood type? I don't—Poseidon what—"

"Oh negative."

"Oh negative, oh negative—"

" _When_ , Pelos, _when_ —"

"Twenty? Twenty minutes?"

Poseidon swore colorfully.

"Okay, okay—" Pelos was still babbling "Poseidon, Poseidon I need you to concentrate, they're going to try and walk us through—"

"Switch places with me, Poseidon," Canace demanded, head suddenly snapping up. "Comfort your son, I'll help Pelos."

Percy thought he could hear Poseidon's heavy breathing. "No, no, I need—I need—"

"Need someone thinking clearly, which you can't. Get up here and comfort your son, I'll do that. Pelos, what do I do? Poseidon! Now! Move!"

There was a scramble of movement. Pelos was still talking in broken fragments but Percy's head wasn't on Canace's lap anymore. He blinked and Poseidon was there in her place, gently lifting his head onto his father's lap instead.

"Dad?"

"I'm here, I'm here," Poseidon gasped and he reached down to take Percy's face in his hands.

Percy stared. Poseidon's hands were trembling but that wasn't what caught Percy's attention; they were bloodstained, every patch of skin colored red, streams running down his arms and dripping onto the deck.

"You're bleeding."

Poseidon's hands froze an inch from Percy's face. The legs that served as his pillow shook so violently Percy's vision blurred. Poseidon looked stricken.

"Oh." Percy realized, his voice detached. "It's my blood, isn't it? _I'm_ bleeding."

Poseidon desperately tried to wipe his hands on his wetsuit, stammering fragments of reassurance all the while. The words slipped senselessly passed Percy; the blood smeared with the water on his father's suit, spreading but not washing away. Poseidon's bloodstained hands came to frame Percy's face, thumbs stroking Percy's cheeks.

"I was bit by a shark wasn't I?"

Poseidon gave a jerky nod.

"Yes." Poseidon swallowed hard, eyes flickering down to his colleagues.

The fingers on Percy's face tensed, digging into the skin. Canace and Pelos moved frantically around, anxiously calling to each other. Percy thought one of them might be on the phone. He tried to twist his head, to see what the damage was, what was going on. Poseidon's hands detained him, his father's wild eyes back on him.

"No," Poseidon said, his voice harsh. "No, look at me, Percy, look at me."

Percy didn't really want to, he wanted to see what was wrong. He felt funny, something wasn't right but . . . but it could be all that bad. He wasn't in pain. If he was hurt real bad, he'd feel it right? Poseidon looked bad, half-wild, so Percy tried to reassure him.

"It doesn't hurt."

"What?" Poseidon asked, his voice strangled.

"It doesn't hurt," Percy repeated. He paused, blinking. Talking was kind of hard. His words sounded a little funny. He took a deep breath. "I'm not in pain. I don't hurt."

His words seemed to have the opposite effect than he hoped.

"Canace!" Poseidon cried, leaning further over Percy as if sheltering him from his own words.

Canace called back, Pelos' voice overlapping. Too many people were speaking at once. Percy only caught snatches of the conversation.

"A helicopter . . . is coming?" Percy asked, his tongue oddly heavy.

"Yes," Poseidon gasped distractedly, pushing hair from Percy's eyes, fingers running across Percy's cheek, his jaw, back up to his forehead. "Yes, Percy a helicopter is coming. How long, Canace?"

"Oh," Percy said, mostly to himself because Poseidon was talking rapidly with Canace.

Poseidon's voice grew increasingly agitated. Percy didn't understand. He could feel the boat, bobbing up and down . . . up and down . . . up and . . . swaying back and forth . . . back and forth . . . back and . . . and. . . The sky over Poseidon's shoulder was blue. Like, really, really blue. Kind of dark. Was it growing late? Each breath weighed heavily in Percy's chest. He couldn't remember breathing being so difficult.

"Dad?" His voice was soft even to his own ears. He tried to clear his throat. "Dad?"

"Yes, Percy, I'm here, I'm here." Poseidon's entire attention snapped to Percy in an instant.

"I'm tired."

Poseidon's breath audibly caught.

"I need you stay awake," Poseidon said, his voice cracking and shaking and just so, so wrong. "Okay, buddy? I need you to stay awake." He slapped Percy's face, his entire body heaving and trembling.

Percy didn't want to upset him so he said, "Okay . . . until the helicopter gets here?"

"Yes, the hospital is sending a helicopter."

"Then . . . then I can sleep?"

Poseidon's mouth opened and closed, head shaking nonsensically. "Not yet Percy okay? Just—just not yet, please."

Percy blinked. He must have taken a long time because Poseidon was slapping his face again.

"Hey, hey, hey buddy, hey Percy, look at me okay? Look at me buddy."

Percy looked at him. "I don't hurt."

"I know Percy, I know."

"I'm tired."

"I know Percy."

Percy's brow furrowed. Poseidon's face was mere inches from his own, demanding Percy's entire attention.

"You . . . tears," Percy murmured in confusion. He wanted to reach up and touch Poseidon's face, where tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes. His limbs wouldn't respond though so Percy just stared in useless confusion. "Dad?"

"It's okay Percy, I'm here. It's—you gotta stay awake for me okay bud? We-we start school—middle school—you start middle school in a couple weeks. Grover, your friend Grover will go to school with you this year. That's nice, that's important. You need—you need to do that. And your mother, your mom needs you. I—it's her weekend you know, she let me take you out this weekend, we need to get you back to her, right? Your mom, your mom she loves you so much, _we_ love you so much, hey buddy stay awake, okay? Stay awake with me Percy, stay with me—"

"'M here Da'." Percy's voice sounded real funny now.

Maybe . . . maybe it _was_ that bad. Maybe . . . maybe he should be worried. Panic tried to settle in his mind but couldn't quite take root, his body too exhausted to properly support the excitement.

"Percy, Percy—"

His eyes had closed again. Percy forced them open, staring up at Poseidon. He couldn't remember ever seeing Poseidon afraid before. His dad wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything. Percy wished he wouldn't look like that.

"How long?" Poseidon screamed, torn and raw and it would have been frightening if Percy could've mustered the effort to be alarmed. Nobody answered Poseidon.

Poseidon leaned back over Percy, cradling his head gently but firmly. Percy thought he might be rocking back and forth, but maybe that was the boat, maybe it was the sea. Percy couldn't tell. He could barely feel it. He was so tired now. Poseidon wouldn't let him close his eyes; he slapped Percy's face, talked and shouted and begged and Percy tried to listen, he did, he really did . . .

"Almost, almost— _there_ , there do you see them?!"

"The helicopter's almost here, Percy, help's almost here," Poseidon gasped, fingers combing through Percy's hair, across his forehead, anywhere he seemed to be able to touch. "You're doing so good, buddy, okay? I'm so, so proud of—they're here, Percy, okay, help's right there, just one minute, just one minute more."

"I'm cold," Percy whispered and he thought that maybe he was scared now.

Tears ran freely down Poseidon's face, hands uselessly petting Percy's face.

"I know baby, I know, just a little longer okay? Just a longer for Dad, just a little longer, they're almost here, they're right there, just stay here with Daddy okay? Please oh god please—"

Something was threatening to drown out Poseidon's voice. Percy felt tears pricking his own eyes, only he couldn't seem to be able to cry, and he just wanted to hear his dad talk, just wanted to see his dad but Poseidon was pulling back, talking to someone—no, don't leave—

"Dad?"

Poseidon was leaning back over him, talking, words that didn't make any sense. Who was going to take him? No. No, he didn't want to go anywhere, he wanted to say with Poseidon. Why couldn't Poseidon—? Didn't they know that Percy needed Poseidon, he needed his dad—

"—love you, it's okay, it's gonna be okay, I love you—"

Then Poseidon was gone but other people, maybe other things, were there. He was moving, maybe, something was pressed against his face, but he couldn't feel it, he couldn't feel anything, he couldn't—

He lay suspended again, floating. Was he back in the water? No. No, Poseidon wouldn't let that happen. . .

Noise.

Lots of noise.

Or maybe no noise at all.

He could move his head now, although it took all his effort and might. He saw blue. Splashes and dances of blue. Someone moved his head back and he saw dark, shadowy blurs.

"Dad?"

Stat and oh neg, shock and hypovol-something. Stolen and borrowed words. Where was Poseidon?

"Dad?"

He couldn't see anything now. Nothing hurt.

"I'm scared."

. . .

. .

.

 _Dad?_

* * *

 **A/n Sharks are not evil.**


	2. Had Fate Not Darkened Our Skies ThatMorn

. . . Had Fate Not Darkened Our Skies That Morn. . .

* * *

"Daphne, I need you to prep OR four. Patient being flown in; severe hypovolemic shock, lacerations on upper left and right thigh, left calf, blood type o-neg, male—"

"Yikes," Apollo hissed, clicking his tongue as he overheard head nurse Ace, who passed a thin blue folder to the beautiful Daphne. He hopped up on the nurse's desk, winking as he tried to swipe the file. "What happen here? A hunting trip gone _horribly_ wrong?"

"Patient is twelve years old," Ace said severely, not even sparing Apollo a scornful glance as the Daphne flipped open the file, already taking half a step towards OR four. "And it was a shark attack."

"Double yikes," Apollo said, grimacing for real this time. "Poor kid."

"Great White attack, so eye-witnesses claim," Ace added as Daphne raised her head to ask. "And they're marine biologists studying the sharks, so it's probably true."

Daphne nodded, then swiftly made her way across the hospital, disappearing off to prep the OR.

"Kid probably won't make it from what the flight team sent over," Ace sighed, lines heavy around his eyes. "Leg is barely attached, missing almost eighty percent of muscle mass in the left leg, and lost almost forty percent of his blood. Poor kid. Terrible way to die."

"Do you have a surgeon prepped just in case?" Apollo said, tsking his tongue once more as he leaned back on the desk, peeking at the files on Ace's screen. "I'm not scheduled for surgery until eleven if you need an extra hand. Where was the kid at? Surfing down at the local beach or are we flying him in from—?"

"Iaso's scrubbing right now, but we flew him in from—"

"Wait, wait, wait, go back up," Apollo said, heart jumping in his chest as a name caught his attention.

"Apollo, what are you doing?" Ace asked in irritation, trying to push the surgeon away as the man swung his legs onto the other side of the desk, hopping down and half on top of the nurse.

"Shit, no, back up, why do you have this file?" Apollo demanded, wrestling Ace for the mouse.

"It's Perseus Jackson's medical files," Ace snapped, "Stop that Apollo, it's the shark bite victim, I need—"

 _Shark bite victim._

"Like hell it is," Apollo snarled. "That's my baby cousin. Where—?"

Everything Ace told him rushed back through Apollo's mind: _almost forty_ _percent of his blood, severe hypovolemic shock, eighty percent muscle loss._ Shit. Then he was racing down the hall, Ace hot on his heels.

"Wait, Apollo! Stop!"

"When is the helicopter due?" Apollo demanded, not stopping. "Page Panacea, tell her to prep for surgery and get Iaso out of there—Panacea is our best surgeon."

He stabbed the elevator button, once, twice, again, again, again, again, _come on_.

"Where's the helicopter? When's it due?" Apollo demanded as Ace caught up with him, his leg bouncing up and down as he repeatedly stabbed the up bottom, watching in agitation as the floor numbers flashed overhead.

"Apollo, stop, I need you to calm down—" Ace tried to grab the young surgeon by the arm but at that exact moment the elevator dinged and Apollo slipped inside, thrusting his medical key forward to gain access to the button for the roof.

"Apollo, if he's your cousin you shouldn't see this, you know family can't operate on family, you're too close—"

"I don't need to operate on him, just call Panacea dammit, do it now—dammit alright, I'll do it myself," Apollo snarled, twisting around frantically to find his pager. He had to try once, twice to tear it from its holder at his side.

"Apollo, listen to me," Ace soothed, one hand curling around the golden man's arm. "Your cousin is in bad shape but he's in good hands, you know Iaso—"

"I don't want Iaso, this is _Percy_ we're talking about!" Apollo shouted, heart hammering in his chest as he stabbed out a message to Panacea. "He's practically my brother, dammit Ace. I want Panacea."

This was bad, this was very, very bad. What stupid thing had Uncle P done now? Apollo wondered, feeling sick. He could picture Percy, the little shit, grinning and laughing as he had been at their last family reunion. Thalia would be _so_ pissed when she found out Percy'd gone and gotten half his leg torn off and Sally—oh god Sally!

"Shit, shit, shit," Apollo gasped, tugging at his perfect hair.

"Deep breaths Apollo, in through your nose and out through your mouth," Ace said, his voice steady and calm as he reached forward—

"Don't you dare," Apollo snarled, enraged at once as he slapped Ace's hand away from the emergency stop button.

"Apollo, you don't want to see this," Ace said gravely, tugging on the surgeon's arm. "Trust me. Just let the other surgeons do their jobs."

"Like hell," Apollo passionately refuted. "This is my family we're talking about here."

The elevator dinged, the sound achingly pleasant and innocuous. Apollo's eyes flew to the door. He could hear the whirl of the helicopter just outside.

"Apollo, I strongly advise against—"

"Get out of my way, Ace, or I swear to God I will punch you," Apollo threatened. The nurse set his jaw and for one moment Apollo seriously considered laying the man flat. Instead, he resorted to the juvenile tactic of bodily shoving the man out of the way and dashing through the barely opened elevator doors. The helicopter was just landing, the flight crew shouting to the nurses gathered below. Apollo, running fast, could see the gurney inside.

"—flatlined—" the medic inside was shouting, looking grim.

"Get him out, get him out," Apollo cried when he realized none of the nurses were moving. "What's the matter with you people? Where are the defibs—? Where—"

"He was wet, we couldn't—" the medic said, eyes widening in shock as Apollo heaved himself up into the helicopter.

Percy laid on the gurney inside, pitifully small and insignificant, his familiar face pale and thin. Apollo determinedly avoided looking anywhere but at his cousin's face, climbing inside and hurrying to the boy's side. Percy's green eyes were open, the makeshift monitor hooked up to his arm screaming a flat beat. Apollo didn't hesitate, flinging himself forward to compress that little, still damp chest.

"Hey, hey we tried that, it's too—" the medic tried to intervene, reaching forward as if to stop Apollo.

Apollo roughly tore his arm away, ignoring the idiotic medic and the idiotic nurses and the shouting of that idiot Ace.

"Come on Percy, come one," he panted instead, pumping down on his cousin's still chest, desperately leaning down to cup his jaw and force air into his lungs.

"Apollo."

"No, no, come on Percy, come on," Apollo begged, pushing harder, breathing, pushing, breathing, pushing. The force of the CPR made Percy's head bob to the side, but there was no gasp, no sudden resuscitation.

"Apollo, stop. He's gone." Ace had somehow come up behind Apollo, laying a hand on the surgeon's shoulder.

"Shut up, just shut up!" Apollo screamed, violently shaking the hand away. _No, no, no,_ his heart screamed inside, stomach revolting. He could do it, Percy was a tough kid, he was a tough kid—

"Apollo. The medics couldn't revive him. You can't revive him. He's gone."

Apollo shook his head, a half-strangled noise rising his in his throat but he couldn't give up, he wouldn't give up.

"Look at him Apollo." Ace's voice was disgustingly gentle and kind. "Look at him."

Tears gathered in Apollo's eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked down at Percy, at his little twelve-year-old cousin, Sally Jackson's only son, and Percy's blank, once bright and mischievous eyes stared at nothing. Apollo's ministrations came to an abrupt stop.

 _"_ Oh Percy," he sobbed and collapsed.

Warm hands tried to catch him. Apollo's knees collided hard with the ground, arms hanging on the gurney. He sobbed, great dry heaves that twisted his stomach. He was sick, nauseated to a painful degree. He felt movement; lifting his head, the brief spark of hope in his chest wretchedly extinguished as Apollo watched Ace's hand came to rest gently on Percy's brow then, with utmost care, slowly closed Percy's eyes. Apollo watched, insides torn and raw as the bold windows, in color Poseidon's but spirit Sally's, forever closed. Apollo moaned, the sound coming from the bottom of his toes. He took one of Percy's hands, one his small, wet hands.

"Oh Percy," he repeated bitterly, half in sob.

He reached his free hand forward, smoothing Percy's ruffled hair. The midnight strands were wild, wet hair spread like seaweed. Apollo tried to tame it, bitterly laughing as the strands resisted, stubborn even in death. _In death._

Percy Jackson was dead.

Apollo bowed his head and made known the pain in his heart.

* * *

Percy's blood had crusted over and dried on Poseidon's hands and clothes. Poseidon at once fiercely wanted it gone and desperately needed to see it, to feel it cracked and pulling at the hairs on his arms, to remind him, as if the bloodstains would somehow help Percy. The trip inland took three hours, three more until the hospital was in sight. Canace drove, the speedometer never dipping below eighty. It wasn't fast enough.

Percy, Percy, Percy.

It had been six hours since the helicopter stole his son away to the sky, pale and small and still calling out for his dad, for Poseidon.

"Almost there, almost there," Canace muttered, which she probably meant to be soothing. It wasn't.

Was Percy still in surgery? Could they save his leg? Poseidon's stomach clenched and not for the first time that day he felt sick. He couldn't . . . he had to be okay. He had to be. Poseidon closed his eyes and saw Percy laying there, all white in a halo of red. Shuddering, he opened them again, heart in his throat. His skin buzzed unpleasantly, as if something just beneath the surface was anxious to escape, to break free from this awful confinement. When Canace pulled into the parking lot of the hospital's ER, Poseidon didn't wait for the car to stop, stepping out even as the tires spun. Canace's voice shouted after him, nothing but sounds carried carelessly in the wind. He didn't walk so much as spontaneously appear inside the hospital, standing before the front desk a heartbeat later.

"Perseus Jackson," Poseidon demanded, his voice hoarse and breathless and loud in the bright room.

His bloodied hands splayed across the ER's front desk, dirty and dark.

"Excuse me sir—" the man behind the counter began, staring at his hands in shock.

"My son—my—Perseus Jackson. He was—brought— _flown_ in. I need to know where he is, how he is—how—Perseus—P, E, R—" he began aggressively spelling Percy's name, his agitation skyrocketing as the receptionist's fingers inched towards the phone instead of the keyboard.

Poseidon was a hot second away from leaping over the counter, wanting to shake the man until his teeth rattled, until his eyes rolled, until—didn't he _see_? Couldn't he _understand_? This was _Percy_ they were talking about. _Percy._ His son, his little—

"Uncle Poseidon."

Poseidon whirled, eyes wild, to find the interrupter. Apollo, dressed in his surgeon blues, slowly stood up from a seat at the back of the waiting room. Poseidon abandoned the fool at the front desk to stride towards this new beacon of light.

"Apollo, where is he? How is—when did—"

"Uncle Poseidon," Apollo softly interrupted, not answering Poseidon's questions.

Poseidon's steps faltered. Apollo's face was somber and serious. Apollo's face was never somber and serious. Eyes red, he approached Poseidon like one would a wild, injured animal.

"Why aren't you answering my questions?" Poseidon demanded harshly, coming to an abrupt stop an arm's length from his nephew. Apollo's mouth twisted, his eyes shining. The shine was wrong, it was watery and glossy and—no. No.

"We should go somewhere private," Apollo began softly.

"No." Poseidon breathed heavily. "No. Where is he, Apollo? Where is my son?"

"I'm sorry," Apollo whispered, useless, stupid words. "I'm so sorry Uncle Poseidon."

Poseidon couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't. He couldn't. No. No.

"Maybe you should sit—" Apollo's voice was distant and soft, swallowed by the roaring in Poseidon's ears, in his soul.

"No!" The word tore from Poseidon's throat and Apollo, who had stepped forward to lay a hand on his uncle's shoulder, stumbled back, clutching his nose.

Poseidon didn't remember hitting him and watched, detached, as blood spurted from his nephew's nose. He began moving without realizing it, without feeling it, invading Apollo's space as his voice, terrible and lost, echoed around the cursed room, "You're lying, you're wrong, you're—you're—"

He grabbed Apollo, wanting to shake him, to hit him, to make those terrible words stop, take him to see Percy, take him to see his son—

Hands grabbed Poseidon, hands that didn't belong to Apollo but they didn't matter, it didn't matter.

"No, let me go, let me go," Poseidon snarled as the hands dragged him backwards, violently tearing his arm away from one faceless entity only to have the same arm aggressively twisted behind his back.

"Don't you dare," he snarled, beyond furious and a moment too slow as a syringe plunged into the fat of his detained arm.

Poseidon whirled wildly back to Apollo, breathing heavily.

"No," he repeated desperately. "Apollo, where is he? Where's my Percy?"

"I'm sorry," Apollo whispered again, blood smeared across his face.

He reached forward, catching Poseidon as he stumbled. Poseidon was sinking, his knees buckling and legs useless. Apollo lowered him to the floor, his face calm and sad and tears, there were tears running down the usually carefree face.

"No, no he's not, stop, stop, not my son, not my boy—"

"He's gone Poseidon," Apollo whispered, "I'm so sorry, he's gone."

An inhuman noise tore from Poseidon's throat, loud and desperate and _why, why, no, Percy, Percy. Percy._

* * *

Poseidon wasn't sure if he lost consciousness or simply awareness but time passed and he was in a different room. He was strapped into a hospital bed, actually, his head pounding to the beat of a sickening drum. He stared at the bleach white ceiling. The paint cracked and peeled in the corner, the old and damaged wall hastily repainted in an effort to keep the wear from showing.

There was a sterile hiss. Poseidon didn't turn his head so he felt rather than saw the intruder approach. They hesitated at his bedside, the rustle of paper and squeak of soft soles against vinyl flooring disturbing the oppressive silence.

"Poseidon?" He didn't know the voice and the soft lift it carried, as though trying to calm a wild animal, infuriated him. "Are you awake?"

"No," Poseidon replied shortly. The voice didn't belong to him, it didn't come from him; he denounced it. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

The person sighed a little. A small jerk along the edge of his arm managed to rouse Poseidon's attention and he turned enough to see a nurse fiddling with the bag at his side. Poseidon's lips curled in contempt and he didn't hesitate before forcing his listless limbs to move, reaching over to violently tear the IV clean out of his arm. Or at least, he tried to, his arms not budging an inch as the straps that tied him down prevented it.

"Whoa, whoa," the nurse objected, momentarily leaving the IV bag alone to lay a hand on Poseidon's shoulder.

"Untie me," Poseidon demanded in the voice that didn't belong to him.

"That wouldn't be a wise idea," the nurse said frankly.

Poseidon stared at the man's face, unseeing.

"Your sister Hestia said she'd be here in thirty minutes. Your son's mother is on her way. Apollo, your nephew, said her flight lands in a couple hours and that your other sister, Demeter, is going to pick her—"

Poseidon's stomach clenched at the sound of Sally's name but it faded as he found he couldn't _care_. It didn't matter.

"When?"

"In a couple hours—"

"No, no," Poseidon said, head shaking back and forth.

The nurse's face was hard. "I think you should sleep until your sister gets—"

"When? On the helicopter?" Poseidon demanded, his voice getting louder and more terrible and less and less like his own. "In the air? On the table?"

"Sir, please—"

" _Tell me._ " Poseidon's eyes searched the nurse's face. "Where you there? Did he—was he alone?"

The word burned in his throat, terrible and consuming. Percy had called out for him, as they lifted him into the sky. But Poseidon couldn't . . . there wasn't any room . . . But how Percy _called_ for him.

The man's mouth opened and closed, eyes infinitely blue and sad. "No," he said finally. "Apollo was there. Apollo held his hand."

"He saw him?"

"Yes," The man's voice was steady and calm. "He met them up on the roof and—and he was there. He held his hand and your son saw Apollo."

"He said he wasn't in pain." Poseidon didn't know where the words came from, only they hurt like broken glass inside his soul.

"He probably wasn't," the nurse said kindly. "He probably never even felt the bite. Blood loss isn't painful, it's rather like going to sleep."

Poseidon violently surged forward, the bed creaking in panicked protest at his erratic lunge as he strained against his bonds, his entire body protesting the nurse's damned words. He seemed to realize the mistake the second the terrible words left his mouth, grimacing as Poseidon leapt forward.

The nurse tried to hold him down, shouting for help over his shoulder, words swept away by Poseidon's hoarse call: "Take me to him, take me to my son, take me to Percy—"

There was a gasp and a new face loomed over him. Poseidon momentarily contemplated ramming his head into the newcomer's when his brain made the connection: it was Apollo.

"Poseidon! Enough!" Apollo's authoritative cry brought a surprised halt to Poseidon's revolt.

"Take me to him." Poseidon was deathly calm as he locked eyes with his nephew. A white strip of gauze stretched across the surgeon's nose.

"Okay," Apollo acquiesced, face pale. "If that's what you want."

"Apollo the man's in shock," the nurse hissed, "and you're too close to the patient. Back off."

"It's his son," Apollo snapped right back, not bothering to lower his voice. "Would you really keep a grieving father from his son?"

The nurse's lips twisted unhappily, hands going to his hips. "It's inadvisable."

"It won't be real until he sees him," Apollo countered. "And you can't keep him sedated forever. I'll watch him—"

"No, Apollo, it's a bad—"

"You need him to identify the body."

Poseidon violently flinched at the word, _body._ Silence filled the air as Poseidon tried to remember how to breathe.

"You can identify—"

"Look at him."

The nurse looked.

"I need to see my baby," Poseidon croaked, his voice breaking and unworldly.

"Okay."

Apollo and the nurse were silent as they untied the restraints around Poseidon's arms and legs. The second he was able, Percy's father sat up. His wrist stung from his violent thrashing. His hands curled into fists, relishing the sensation. He deserved it. He needed it.

"Take me to him," Poseidon repeated, coming to his feet.

Both Apollo and the nurse held their hands out, warily watching him as though expecting the man to fall. Poseidon remained on his feet.

"Are you sure?" The nurse asked one last time. "It's not a pretty picture and you don't have to be the one to identify. Someone else can, you can wait until the coroner—"

"Take me to my Percy." His voice broke no argument.

"Okay, follow me then," Apollo instructed, holding an arm out towards the door.

The hospital was bright and boisterous. Voices bombarded, laughter echoing sickeningly in the father's ringing ears, light searing his dark eyes. The walk to the elevator seemed an eternity, though the steps numbered no more than twelve. The ding as the off gray doors opened sounded as loud as gunfire.

Inside, the air was blessedly silent. There was no room for thought in the small space and when the doors opened, Apollo stepped out first. Poseidon followed more slowly, feeling each step reverberate in his soul. The basement was cold but he barely felt the chill, watching as Apollo motioned for him to stop. Poseidon watched as Apollo disappeared inside the large metal doors of the morgue. Anticipation grew in Poseidon's chest, building and building and building, bloating inside of him. He couldn't take his eyes off the door. Nothing felt real. This was a dream, a terrible nightmare and he would wake up—he _had_ to wake up.

His breath stuttered when the doors opened. Apollo held it open for someone—they didn't matter, he didn't care but the terrible word _mortician_ ran through his mind like a knife in the heart. The person gave Poseidon a look. Sympathetic probably but all Poseidon saw was Apollo beckoning him forth.

If the basement was cold, the morgue was arctic. Apollo watched as Poseidon gingerly stepped inside. Poseidon's jaw flexed, his breath rough and uneven. Apollo met his gaze for an eternity too long and a broken heartbeat too short. Then Percy's cousin took one, two, three long strides, his golden hair a flame in the darkness and Poseidon hovered behind, like a moth drawn to its doom. As Apollo's fingers curled around the unfeeling handle, he half turned. The world held its breath, the earth fell silent, and Apollo opened the drawer. Ghostly fingers pulled the slab out and gently folded the sheet back.

The pale, angelic vintage before them was as familiar as the sun in the sky.

Poseidon hadn't realized he'd fallen to his knees until Apollo's burning fingers were on his shoulder and that beloved face level with his eyes. The image was wrong; wrong, wrong, wrong. His son should be lying on a soft, warm bed, upright, never one with the patience for inactivity. Cheeks flushed and rosy. Eyes bright. Crookedly smiling. Not here. Not like this. Not ever. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. Poseidon leaned forward to lay a hand against that cold cheek. Poseidon cupped the little face, his hand large enough to spread from forehead to chin. His thumb stroked along the jaw, combing through the black strands that fell all in disarray. Trembling, his fingers traced the lines of his son's face, over his nose and forehead and closed eyes. It was a dream, it had to be, it had to be.

"Percy," he called but the eyes didn't open. "Percy." The chest didn't rise. "Percy." Something salty and wet fell on one pale cheek but no hand moved to brush it away.

"No, no, no, nonono."

A moan, unreal and painful beyond description, tore from Poseidon's very soul, shattering into a million irreparable, slicing pieces.

 _"Percy."_

* * *

 **A/n Most identifications are actually done via photographs but that's neither here nor there. Okay, now put the pitchforks away, all hope is not lost. There will be a third part, which might be considered an "alternate ending" (it's hard to explain without giving anything away, just wait.) Can I just say that the response to the first part utterly blew me away? Like . . . wow. Thank you guys, I was so touched and astounded by all the love you gave me. Really, I don't even know how to properly thank you. It almost made me rethink this chapter. Except, as some of you correctly pointed out in your reviews, I'm evil. So** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **I love you guys, though!**

 **Please let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed ~ ***

 ****I'm not a doctor, excuse or ignore any/all medical inaccuracies.**


	3. But Hearkened Angels Instead

. . . But Hearkened Angels Instead ~ *

* * *

Later describing it, he wouldn't rightly know _how._ It wasn't like waking up, like coming back to yourself after a restless nap. There weren't words to describe the indescribable. All he remembered was gasping, his body lurching off whatever he laid upon, a familiar golden aura calling his name.

Percy gasped and the golden figure sobbed.

"He's back, he's back, he's—nurse—nurse—!"

He couldn't remember anything for some time.

When next his eyes opened, he was somewhere else. His mind wasn't working properly, his body heavy and detached. He felt a million miles away, like treading through thick, unyielding water. Light assaulted his eyes, painful and unbelievably bright; a thousand suns, searing and cruel. Something clogged his mouth, something tickled his nose. In the background, a steady beat kept the silence at bay.

He blinked and everything changed. Time. Time had passed. The light wasn't so bad. A dull throbbing pulsed deep in his bones, trying to claw at the edge of his consciousness but never seemed to get a good grasp. His head listed to the side and the image of a woman came into focus.

Immediately, and without knowing why, his heart ached. It was a funny kind of ache, painful and yearning. He knew this woman, he loved her and wanted nothing more than for her to open her eyes. He somehow felt everything would be okay if she did. The woman slept, her legs pulled up on her chair. Brown hair fell disorderly around her face. One of her hands laid right on top of him, fingers half on his pillow half on his head. Her face was sad and it twisted his heart, making it hurt even worse in the sheer _wrongness_ of the image. Her eyes were rimmed red and the sight made _him_ want to cry.

Something moved and he instinctively turned his head. The movement hurt. He didn't know where or why it hurt, but it hurt and it was slow and he should have been able to move _faster._ A man sat at his other side, the sight just as achingly painful and not painful as the woman. He wasn't sleeping, a cup held between two hands. He looked terrible. Percy wanted to call out, to draw the man out of his thoughts and get that terrible look off his face but . . .

He blinked and it was almost dark. He was so tired.

His head listed to the side and his heart swelled painfully when he realized the woman was still there. She wasn't asleep this time, her hand carding gently, oh so gently through his hair. She tucked a strand behind his ear and the tenderness of the gesture made him want to cry. Her eyes wandered down and met his.

"Oh," the woman cried and her face twisted in so many different directions Percy couldn't even think to name them. " _My baby."_

Then she was over him, sobbing and sobbing as her body trembled and she rained kisses on his face. Her fingers twisted in his hair, fat salty tears running down her face, but she was smiling, a wobbly sort of thing. He figured that was better than nothing, right? He wanted to smile back, to reassure her and stop this terrible flood of tears (she shouldn't cry, he was a terrible person for making her cry). Her head lifted a little and suddenly another face loomed over: the familiar sad man from before.

The man's hand came up, grabbing Percy's face tight. It was a large hand, practically able to cradle the whole half of Percy's head. It was oddly reassuring or would have been if the man hadn't been crying as well, his rough beard scratching against Percy's cheek as he invaded Percy's space like the woman.

A voice called over all the crying and the pair pulled back so a new man, this one unfamiliar and clothed in white, stepped forward.

 _Doctor._

The woman stepped aside to let the doctor through. She grabbed Percy's hand tight, bringing his fingers up to her mouth.

"It is good to see you awake," the doctor said, his voice accented but Percy's muddled brain couldn't distinguish the lift. "We are all very happy."

The doctor bent over Percy, holding a little black light in one hand, his voice calm and soothing. "We just need to check a few things and ask a few questions alright?"

 _We?_ Had he been able to, Percy would've jumped as a new figure fiddled with the dials on a monitor near his head. The familiar man stepped aside slightly to let the new person through but kept one hand tangled in Percy's hair, eyes steadily fixed on Percy's face.

The doctor drew Percy's attention back, snapping fingers in front of his face.

"Okay now, I have a couple of questions for you alright? I know you're tired and I want to give you time to rest so I won't ask too many. Blink once for yes, twice for no okay? Once, yes; twice, no. Blink once if you understand."

Percy blinked.

"Good, good. Now, are you in any pain? Do you feel any pain anywhere?"

Percy took stock. He felt heavy, weighed down and tired. But no pain, not really. He blinked twice.

"Good, good that is good. Now, can you follow this light with your eyes for me?"

Percy did as instructed, not having the energy to flinch as the doctor reached forward and held Percy's eyelids back to get a better look.

"Good, good," the doctor muttered, writing something down. "Good. Now, do you know where you are at?"

Percy's eyes traveled around the room. He was lying on a white bed, a beeping monitor at his side, a place where doctors just popped in. A hospital then. He was at a hospital. Percy gave one blink.

"Okay good. You're at a hospital, is that what you thought?"

Percy blinked.

"Good. Do you know your name?"

Percy blinked.

"Your name is Percy, is that what you thought?"

Percy blinked.

"Good, very good. Now, look down here to your right. Do you see this lady? Do you know who she is?"

Percy stared at the woman holding his hand. She offered him a watery smile, tears still quietly tracking down her face. _Mom._ The word just appeared in his mind but he immediately knew it was true; she was his mom. Percy blinked, then tried to squeeze her hand, his throat burning. Mom, she was his mom and he made her cry, he made his mom cry—don't cry, Mom.

His mother—Sally, her name was Sally—squeezed his hand tighter, giving a broken laugh. She kissed his knuckles while the doctor wrote.

"Excellent, very good. What about the gentleman on your other side? Do you know him?"

Percy looked. The man's haggard face tried to support a smile, fingers tenderly combing through Percy's hair. _Dad._ Poseidon.

Percy blinked.

"Good," the doctor was saying but Percy stared at Poseidon.

He couldn't understand why, but Poseidon's haggard face made a knot of emotion tangle in his stomach. Without knowing why, Percy felt tears prick his eyes and then he was crying. He cried and cried, hiccupping around the stupid thing in his mouth, gross snot running down his face. It was pretty terrible.

"Oh, there, there now," the doctor tried to dab at Percy's face with a tissue but Poseidon beat him to it, wiping Percy's tears away with his bare hand, hushing and murmuring.

"It's okay, it's okay," Poseidon desperately crooned and he was pressing his mouth against Percy's forehead again as he tried to stem Percy's hysteria. "It's okay Percy, you're okay, I'm here. I'm here."

Percy didn't know what was wrong with him but he couldn't stop crying. Poseidon's words only made him sob harder. It hurt, all this stupid crying did and made breathing hard. Things got a little fuzzy. Percy hiccuped, his cries fizzling out as exhaustion stole into his muscles to drain his energy away. Sally was there, her pale concerned face hovering over his. Poseidon's beard scratched against Percy's skin and . . . everything faded to black.

The world was more clear the next time he awoke. The light didn't hurt as much. Sally sat guard at his side, his hand in hers and humming softly.

"Good morning sweetheart," she whispered and her free hand mused his hair. She leaned forward and Percy tried to scoot closer, desperate for the closeness. Her forehead leaned against his.

"Mom," he croaked and only then did he realize the tube thing was gone.

" _My baby_ ," Sally whispered and even though his face was tucked against her, Percy knew she as crying.

"Don't," Percy tried to encourage, his voice hoarse and weak.

Sally pulled away to cup his face in her strong hands.

"My beautiful little boy," she whispered.

She was indeed crying but the tears fell quietly down her face and she was smiling, wide and beautifully. It confused Percy. He blinked up at her and her smile grew wider. She actually laughed, to his ever-growing confusion before kissing his forehead.

"Are you in any pain sweetheart?" She asked, her brow wrinkling in concern. Lines were heavy on her face, deeper and more pronoun then he remembered. He would bet all he owned that he was the cursed cause of it.

"'M sorry," Percy croaked, not knowing for what he apologized. Tears fell quicker down Sally's face and Percy cursed himself.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for Percy, nothing at all okay, honey? I love you, I love you so much."

She kissed him again, leaving tears behind this time. Percy didn't quite believe her. He obviously did something wrong. He was the only one who could upset her so much. He bit back another apology, not wanting to upset her anymore. Sally cleared her throat, trying for a smile.

"Are you in any pain though sweetheart?"

Percy took stock. He felt funny—drugged, probably. He shifted and felt briefly an uncomfortable sensation.

"No."

Sally's eyes refilled and Percy backpedaled . . . only to hesitate.

"Mom?"

"I'm here baby."

"Why?"

His tongue was heavy, body sluggish. Percy blinked and tried to rouse himself but lethargy seeped right into his being. Sally understood his meaning regardless.

"Rest," his mother avoided.

Percy wasn't sure why but her words stirred anxiety in his breast. Something wasn't right here. Why was he in the hospital? What happened? Was he okay?

"Why?" Percy repeated, blood pounding in his ears.

"Percy," his mother whispered.

Percy licked his lips, trying once more to unsuccessfully move his body. He felt terrifyingly disconnected and the sensation frightened him.

"Mom," Percy pleaded, breathing fast.

"Shh," Sally pleaded in return.

For the first time in his life, Percy ignored his mother's pleas and pushed her harder.

 _"Please_."

Tears ran heavily down Sally's face.

"You were dead," Sally's voice was hard and harsh, then she gave a great sob, words coming out in a torrent. "You were dead. For five whole minutes your heart wasn't beating."

She brought his hand up to her mouth, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Percy watched her, stunned. His heart pounded mockingly in his ears: _thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump._

 _Dead?_ He was _dead?_

"But they brought you back," Sally whispered, squeezing his hand so tight a part of Percy's brain sparked and he almost thought he could feel the pain, even through the foggy concoction of drugs clouding his system. "They brought you back, you came back to me."

Percy was almost sorry he asked. He didn't know what to do to make it better so he let Sally cry and hold his hand, letting his own nerves be comforted by the steady beeping in the background and the thrumming in his ears. The sound had never been so comforting before.

 _Dead_.

Well. He felt pretty good, all things considered.

He tried to squeeze his mom's hand.

 _But why?_ Percy wondered. Healthy boys didn't suddenly go into cardiac arrest. So what caused it? What was wrong with him? Percy peered down the rough, white sheets covering his body, as though it might give him a clue. He wanted to press his mom but he didn't want to make her cry more. Wait, he got it: he'd ask Poseidon.

Percy automatically turned his head, expecting to find his father perched there as he'd been the last time Percy awoke. The chair was empty.

Well, Percy would just wait for him to get back then.

* * *

The doctor came in some time later. Percy wasn't entirely sure when that time was. It could have been later that evening, the next morning, two days later. It was hard to tell; Percy kept fading in and out of consciousness. The doctor said that was normal.

"It is to be expected with hypovolemic shock," the doctor assured him, two fingers pressed against Percy's throat.

At the boy's confused look, the doctor explained. "Severe blood loss. You lost almost forty percent of your blood, it was very dangerous. You are a very lucky boy to be alive."

 _Blood loss?_

"How much do you remember?" the doctor asked, continuing his assessment of Percy.

"Nothing," Percy said, his mind frustratingly blank.

"That is normal too," the doctor assured him. "What is the last thing you can remember?"

Percy racked his brain. "I was . . . at school? Dad picked me up?"

The doctor turned to Sally.

"That was Friday," Sally whispered, looking at the floor.

"Today is Wednesday," the doctor told Percy.

He finished his examination then sat in Poseidon's still vacant seat. He crossed his hands and looked at Percy over the top of his glasses; Percy knew right away this was going to be a serious conversation. His ears perked up, hoping he'd finally learn something.

"You are regaining alertness well," the doctor explained. "So we are going to go over the extent of your injuries and your recovery plan okay?"

"Okay," Percy agreed.

"Alright well, this will be distressing for you," the doctor warned, "we have your mother here and a counselor outside the door."

The doctor gestured and Sally moved her chair, the scrap obnoxious as it violated the silence. She reached out to take hold of Percy, anchoring him like she always did, the constant foundation of his life. Percy wanted to know but the back of his mind shrunk into her comfort, inexplicably afraid.

With a serious set, the doctor began, "Your father did pick you up and you went with him out on a research boat."

"Seal Island," Percy said, but the memory was old, a remembrance of a long past conversation.

"Do you remember?"

"No, I just . . . know. We talked about it before."

"Alright. Well, your father and his team took you out to Seal Island. In all the excitement, one way or another, you fell overboard."

Percy stared blankly at the doctor, not understanding. His chest felt tight though, anxiety stealing into his breath.

"Before they could get you back onboard," the doctor's voice was infinitely gentle, "you were attacked by a shark."

A shark attack.

The words repeated soundlessly in his mind. The doctor stared expectingly at him, waiting for something. For what, Percy wasn't sure. He felt nothing but numb surprise. Shock, maybe that was this odd feeling.

"Okay," he said when the doctor didn't go on.

Apparently, his reaction wasn't too odd because the doctor took one hard look at him before continuing, "The shark attacked you from below—"

"A breach."

"Yes. Luckily, because you are so much larger than a seal, it only got hold of your legs, primarily the upper left one, nicking some of the right inner thigh as well. Thankfully, the jaws didn't clamp down fully. If it had, it would have severed the leg clean off. The shark, to the best we can guess, realized you weren't a seal and immediately let go. Your father jumped into the water and managed to pull you out. He stemmed the blood loss with a tourniquet and was able to keep you alive until a helicopter could reach you. From there, you were air lifted to the hospital."

"I died."

The doctor's lips twitched the ever slightest bit. "Well, it depends on how you define death. If you define it as not having a heartbeat, then yes. Your heart stopped on the helicopter. For five minutes. Your cousin, Apollo, managed to resuscitate you. We rushed you into surgery, where you flatlined on us twice more before we could stabilize you. It was touch and go for hours. Like I said, you are a very lucky boy."

Percy numbly nodded.

"Now, when the shark attacked—"

"Bit."

"Begging your pardon?"

"He bit me, he wasn't trying to kill me."

The doctor stared at him, and Percy got the uncomfortable impression that pity lurked in those eyes.

"Yes. Well. Judging by the width of the teeth impressions and diameter of the bite mark, we believe that a juvenile Great White . . . bit you. So, the shark came up from the depths at great velocity and struck you. Had the shark clamped down, the force would have severed the limb off like I said before. Luckily, since the shark immediately let go, it did not. All the same, the damage was extensive. Eighty percent of the muscles in your left leg were gone or shredded beyond salvage, and your femoral artery was utterly exposed. It was nothing short of a miracle it hadn't been nicked. But it was utterly exposed and extremely vulnerable."

"It was a very dangerous situation you must understand. By tying the tourniquet around your leg your father undoubtedly saved your life but it also made saving the tissue below nearly impossible. A tourniquet, as I'm sure you know, functions to cut off blood flow. No blood flow means no bleeding which was good news for your life but not good news for the tissue in your leg, which started dying. Even without the dead tissue, the damage was incredible."

The doctor paused, sighing, "To save your life and stop the bleeding, we had to amputate your leg."

"What?" Percy's voice sounded terribly normal and even.

"Percy," Sally whispered but Percy, heart pounding, ignored her as the words repeated in his mind: amputate your leg, amputate your leg. He started shaking his head, barely even realizing it.

"We have to remove your left leg," the doctor repeated, each word clear and direct.

"No," Percy denied, shaking violently. "No, no, no! You're lying! You're—!"

"Percy," Sally tried to calm him down, running her hand through his hair but Percy threw her off.

She tried to grab him again but Percy was shaking violently and the doctor, still disgustingly calm, said, "Let him be, let him be."

Percy ignored them both, desperately clawing at his sheets, tangling in them, wresting them as a sob rose in his throat until he cast them off and his body lay bare to view. His right leg stretched out before him, half bent at the knee. His hospital gown rode up enough to see the pearly white gauze tightly wound around his thigh. But at its side, next to that now twitching, writhing limb was whiteness. An unimaginable stretch of scratchy, irrelevant bedding, its colorlessness bleak and mocking. Percy gasped, then gasped again, then the doctor was leaning over him, instructing him to breathe but Percy couldn't, he _couldn't_.

 _Move,_ his mind willed and his legs wiggled. Only, only the right one wiggled but nothing else, nothing . . . the whiteness didn't move.

 _But it's there, I can feel it, it's there, it's there!_

"Your brain hasn't realized it's gone yet," the doctor soothed, his voice distant and irrelevant. "Breathe for me, Perseus."

 _No, no, no! No!_

"Oh baby, baby. Listen to me, listen to Mom, breathe honey—"

Percy found his breath. " _Mom!"_ He cried and the voice was terrible, it was terrible, it was— " _Mom!"_

"Oh Percy, oh my baby, shh, Mom's here, I'm here, I've got you, breathe Percy, honey, breathe, shh. Mom's here, Mom's here."

 _"Mom!"_ Percy screamed again and she was wrapping him up, curling around him but it wasn't enough, it wasn't okay, it wasn't. " _My leg! Where's my leg?"_

 _"Where's my leg?"_

* * *

Poseidon's chair was still empty.

"My leg is gone."

"I know baby, I know."

"My leg is gone."

"I know, Percy, but _you're_ still here."

Percy stared up at his mother's red, puffy face.

"My leg is _gone_."

Sally sniffled a little. Someone brought things from their apartment back in New York. Familiar items littered the room, balloons and flowers covered every surface. It didn't matter.

"The counselor's back," she said softly, brushing hair back from his face.

"My leg is gone."

"Will you see her for a couple minutes? Please, for me?" Sally pleaded softly.

Percy was exhausted, his energy utterly obliterated. There was nothing in him. He couldn't deny Sally on a good day, but he didn't even have the energy to give her question any real consideration.

"My leg is gone."

Sally invited the counselor in. Percy couldn't remember what they said. They left after an hour, promising to come back the next day. They gave Sally a business card.

"Where's Dad?"

The simple sentence felt heavy on his tongue and left him unexplainably exhausted. His head listed to the side to watch his mother. Sally's head whipped around. It was the first thing other than 'my leg is gone' he'd said since the doctor left.

"Poseidon?" She repeated, taking his fingers in hers.

Percy just stared at her, too tired to nod or repeat the question.

"Just rest honey," she said instead.

"I want Dad."

"You need to sleep."

Percy stared some more.

"Okay."

Sally smiled, the expression sad and terrible and he felt tears prick his eyes again. She leaned forward and gathered him close. Percy buried his face in her shirt, drowning in the familiar scent and feel. It brought the numbness back, which was better than the pain.

Did Poseidon not want to see him? Percy wondered. Did he know about Percy's leg?

Percy closed his eyes and slept.

* * *

His memories came back and with them, terrible dreams. He remembered Poseidon crying out his name, the scream terrible and haunting. It repeated in his nightmares, over and over and that was all he needed to burst into a cold sweat. He couldn't remember the shark but maybe he never did. He remembered being in the air and the fear from the helicopter. He remembered calling out for Poseidon and Poseidon begging him not to die.

He woke up screaming sometimes. Crying others. Sometimes, when he woke up in wretched despair, the hand that soothed him was calloused and large. Sometimes he woke up and just stared at Poseidon's empty seat, gasping and trembling and just . . . wanted his dad. With an ache that not even Sally could soothe. He loved his mom, needed his mom like a fish needed water but she hadn't been there. She hadn't called out to him or begged him not to die as he lay dying on that cold, wet boat.

Percy just wanted his dad.

Sally said he'd been in the hospital for a week. They wanted to monitor him for a week more. Percy stopped listening to the conversation after that.

"Where's dad?"

Sally stroked his hair, her fingers soft and gentle.

"I'm going to get something to drink, do you want anything honey?"

"Dad."

Wrinkles were permanently edged around Sally's beautiful eyes. "Will you be okay for ten minutes?"

Percy faced the wall. "Yeah."

She didn't leave right away. She kept stroking his hair, kissing his forehead. He heard rather than saw her leave some time later. Percy's chest felt like it was being tugged and pulled at, only from the inside and by something with razor sharp teeth. Like a shark. Percy couldn't quell the shiver that swept over his body at the thought. His breath gave a sharp uptick and his eyes swiveled towards the empty seat on his right.

Movement caught his eye. Irrationally, Percy stiffened, adrenaline spiking—only to realize it was a person lurking outside his door. The shadow jerked back when they realized he had noticed them but not fast enough to avoid detection. Heart in his throat, Percy cried out;

"Dad!"

The shadow retreated, away from view.

Percy felt like those teeth inside him had taken a giant bite out of his heart.

"Dad!" He cried again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed—

Only to find one leg swinging there and, unbalance, he fell back onto the bed, a tangle of limbs. His flailing upset the monitor, his foot collided heavily with something hard and oh he might be crying again. All the same, he managed to cry out;

"Don't leave _me_!"

"Hey, hey, hey," the voice was achingly familiar. Percy thrashed about some more, not quite able to find his equilibrium when calloused hands constrained him.

"Dad," Percy realized, going boneless in relief.

"Hey kiddo, you're going to hurt yourself."

Percy let himself be rightened, offering no help as Poseidon tried to get him situated on the bed. Finally, Poseidon sat on the edge of Percy's bed, one arm on either side of his son as he panted, looking disgruntled at Percy's lack of assistance. Percy didn't care, he barely noticed. Instead, he stared at his father's face. Poseidon looked even more exhausted than Percy remembered, his usually mischevious and jovial face gaunt.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Pery asked, hating how his voice broke on the last word.

Poseidon sighed, lifting his hand to touch Percy but he moved, shrinking back into his pillow so Poseidon's hand hung in the air instead.

"I'm not avoiding you, your mother and I—"

"You are," Percy objected, hot tears stinging his eyes. "You are!"

The tears licked down Percy's face, burning and hot. Poseidon tried to hush him, to brush away the tears but Percy shoved at his chest, furious and hurt and God did everything _hurt._

"Where were you?" Percy demanded, his voice half a scream, "where were you?"

The agony, the fear, the dreams and the emptiness next to his right leg, all bubbled up and Percy sobbed, bringing his fists up to pound on Poseidon's chest.

"Why?" He screamed, sobbed. "Why, why, why _why_."

Poseidon didn't try to stop Percy, holding his hands out to steady Percy instead, letting Percy scream and hit him.

"I need you," Percy sobbed, "I need my dad."

Words were lost then, caught in Percy's throat as sobs overtook them. The teeth moved from his chest to swim in his veins, slicing and tearing at all the parts of him until he was wholly undone. Percy fell forward, wanting to bury himself in the safety of his father just barely more than he wanted to push the man away, and by some miracle, Poseidon let him. Poseidon wrapped him up, one strong arm winding around Percy to hold him close and the other cradling his head. Percy sobbed, beyond hysterical. Sob may not even be the right word, too weak and feeble, to describe the violence with which he wept. His body was being forced back and for a horrifying moment, Percy thought Poseidon was letting him go. But no—the bed groaned and dipped, then pressed against Percy's side was a warm weight as Poseidon bodily climbed into the bed. He gathered Percy up like a small child, cradling him like a precious infant as Percy sobbed. Percy fisted a hand in Poseidon's shirt, the other coming around to cling desperately to him, to make sure he couldn't go away.

 _"Dad_ ," Percy cried, the word all but lost to his tears and Poseidon's shirt.

"I've got you," Poseidon's voice was thick. "I've got you Percy, and I'm never going to let you go."

"My leg's _gone_ ," Percy wailed.

"I know Percy but I don't care." Percy could feel Poseidon shake his head. " _You're_ here."

"It's my leg!' Percy screamed and, not quite able to let go, pounded his head against Poseidon's collarbone instead of hitting him.

Poseidon didn't seem to care.

"You're my son," came Poseidon's half snarled response. His grip on Percy's head was painful.

Percy didn't know how to respond to that so he just continued to cry, hard body wracking sobs. Percy was certain if Poseidon didn't hold him tight, his body would fall apart from the force of it. Eventually, Percy's cries grew softer. His body was too weak to support the excitement for long so his hysteria fizzled out from sheer exhaustion. When his cries grew to mere sniffles, Poseidon bowed his head to leave a lingering kiss on Percy's forehead.

"I'm sorry," Poseidon whispered.

"You should be," Percy grumbled, but the crying left him exhausted beyond description. He didn't even think about trying to push Poseidon away though, wiggling closer instead. He'd be mad another day. For now, he just wanted to be here. Nothing was okay, but in that moment, safe and warm in his father's embrace, Percy could at least pretend it was. "But you're here now."

"I apologize for that too."

Percy thought about that for a moment before deciding Poseidon's answer didn't make any sense so he gave a soft, "Huh?"

"You freaked out when you woke up for the first time and saw me," Poseidon uttered in return.

"Oh." Pause. "That was a stupid reason to stay away."

Poseidon gave a bitter chuckle, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of Percy's neck. Percy closed his eyes, lulled by the steady beat of his father's heart, when a thought came to him.

"What do you mean 'too'?"

Poseidon didn't respond. Percy tried to twist his head up to look at his dad but Poseidon held him fast. Percy didn't try too hard to break free, too tired and warm and safe right where he was. Silence stretched on for a bit. Percy got the strange feeling Poseidon was listening to Percy's heartbeat this time around.

"Dad?"

"I should have kept a better eye on you."

Percy hadn't expected that. He stayed silent for a while, confused as he mulled Poseidon's words over.

"I didn't listen," Percy admitted, not really wanting to think about it.

"I shouldn't have let you near the gate."

The words didn't make sense to Percy.

"I fell, it was an accident."

"I shouldn't have let it happen."

Percy thought. He was too tired for this.

"That's stupid."

"I'm your father."

"Then stop being stupid," Percy grumbled, done with this conversation.

"It's my job to protect you."

"Then shut up and don't go away again."

Poseidon's chest expanded, a sure sign he was going to spew some more nonsense so Percy cut him off.

"I forgive you, if that's what you need to hear to stop saying stupid things and let me sleep."

Poseidon stayed silent. The drugs and crying weighed heavily on Percy but he knew something was still wrong so he cracked an eye open and looked up at his dad. Poseidon gently ran his hand through Percy's hair, gazing intensely down at Percy as though afraid he might disappear.

"I'm here Dad," he murmured. "And I need you to stay too okay?"

"I'll never let you go again," Poseidon promised, tucking Percy's head back under his chin.

Satisfied, Percy nestled back in and Poseidon finally let him sleep.

* * *

 **A/n "Mrs3 are you aware that this directly contradicts what you wrote in the last chapter?" Yes, yes I am. This is that ~alternate ending~ I forewarned. I wrote this entire story with the idea in mind that the first part would detail 'the incident' and the following two parts as 1) what actually occurred after it and 2) what someone (*cough*Poseidon*cough*) imagined could have happened. So part one = what happened. What _could_ have happened and what _did_ happen = the next two. The titles more or less indicate which ending I think is which but it's up to you to decide which one you think is the "real" ending. I hope you're less sad now. **

**Please let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed ~ ***

 ****I still don't have a medical decree, forgive any/all incorrect medical information.**


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